the beauty, the beast, the burned

[groundrules]

BEAUTY & THE BURNED

---

Image source.

All but overnight, howling winter winds seal off main roads and curtail safe travel. The storms will recede within a month — and the Merchant negotiates for the party to bide that time at the sinister castle of the clan Netvor and its cursed heir.

ON THE ROAD

The party departs at night, in carriages led by obstinately silent coachmen, who urge discretion. Above all, they say, the woods must not know you head for the castle. Inside, you find dried fruit, candied meats, candle stubs and blankets. You are assigned your first ride, but may swap at resting points.

■ Crossing the misty, eerily quiet woods, your carriage is attacked by large, demonic wolve. Coachmen scream to run to the castle.

■ Evade the wolves in the woods, until you reach the strong, tall gates and fences that encircle the vast castle gardens. The gates bear skulls that carry daggers between their teeth. To let you in, they ask for shiny things, wine and secrets — but are also susceptible to charm.

■ If you arrive covered in blood, the gate skulls call you a ‘beauty’ and offer you a dagger that you may take or discard. If you arrive untarnished, they call you a ‘beast.’

Image source.

HOME, SWEET HOME

Tall, dark and looming, with narrow corridors and windows of stained glass — the castle of the noble Netvor clan is like a slow-beating, putrid heart that powers extensive gardens and forest lands.

The castle rests on thick mounds of snow, crossed by red rivulets that stain nearby ice sheets crimson — a reminder, your host Julien says, of a ‘Red Hunt’ that the Netvor clan carried out years prior, killing hundreds of animals until their blood mixed with dirt. In retaliation, a forest witch cursed the clan, transforming its heir into an unsightly beast and his servants into inanimate objects or fellow creatures.

” Once upon a time, there was a man. And that man had kin. And that kin was cruel. But the forest chooses its time and its champions. The land rebelled against them. Their people turned away. And only the beasts they so cleverly despoiled would still have them. The prince was spared because a glimmer of kindness he showed a stranger, to make amends. But the prince was alone. ”

You were largely given lodging at castle Netvor in exchange for entertaining Julien, the prince’s serene and startlingly handsome fiancé, who welcomes you with the main house rule: you must not see the prince.

Image source.

BEHIND YOU

The castle covets you : doors and windows often thud shut to lock you inside quarters, candles light up or dim on whim, and you sometimes hear the echo of voices in the corridors carrying the secrets of other speakers, long after they’ve departed.

If you are a ‘beauty,’ statues slowly turn their heads or move when you look away, and you see shadows running through mirrors. If you are ‘beastly,’ you hear clawing at your windows and doors at night, only to find fading scratch marks in the morning.

Some servants have been cursed into inanimate objects, with others transformed into bird-like, monstrous but harmless creatures that stay largely hidden.

House rules: do not open doors or windows at night. Be kind to the servants.

Image source.

THE SOUTHERN WING

Home to Julien and you, the southern wing is bright, airy, gilded and refreshed daily by sentient dusters and brooms.

■ Lavish sleeping quarters with en suite bathing quarters and generously supplied wardrobes. There are no furs or fur-lined clothes. Rule: do not enter Julien’s locked bedchamber. Julien himself heads to the northern wing each night.

■ Self-sustaining kitchens, where bowls, whisks and ladles perpetually prepare elaborate dishes and pastries. Visitors are often hijacked to test eccentric or boozy dishes.

■ A glistening ballroom with wall-length mirrors. Soft music erupts, compelling you to take a partner and dance feverishly to steps you somehow know or that a sentient cello can teach. Spinning by the mirrors, you see yourself reflected among faceless dancers whom you recognise from the portrait room. When you finish dancing, you spot ash footprints on the floor.

” The villagers don’t speak of what happened to the rest of clan Netvor. Handfuls of people. If they are among the cursed servants, they hide themselves. But I suspect they have long transcended to a different realm of possibilities. He does not speak of them to me. But he does not speak of any unkindness to me. He is… gentle, in his way. ”

■ The reading room: a wide seating area with an enormous fireplace where the remains of prized hunting prey were traditionally set to burn. Strange bones and expensive clothing scraps linger amid wood kindling.

■ The object-servants (largely dusters and teacups) urge you to help decorate the southern wing with flowers, candles and baubles for new year festivities — only for you to discover burned clothes in the castle’s nooks and crannies. What remains of the materials is high-quality, ornate.

Image source.

BEASTLY QUARTERS

The northern wing is dark, moulding, with torn wallpaper, broken furniture and soot strewn about — the signs of a failed arson attempt. The ravaged northern area leads to a tall tower that houses the prince’s chambers.

House rules: you cannot enter after sundown, and you must leave any room when you hear unknown footsteps behind you. Disobey, and you gradually lose consciousness as the footsteps come near you, and you hear only a rasped, bestial, Your blood need not spill here, before you wake with a booming migraine in the southern wing. Do this three times, and Julien insists you must leave the castle.

■ the portrait room: a gallery and library that displays brimming bookcases and the portraits of the family members of the Netvor clan. The faces have been removed: some by claws, canvas strips hanging. Some were burned off. In a handful of portraits, faces have simply disappeared through white erosion.





■ The prince’s sleeping quarters are in a locked tower chamber, preceded by a wide stairwell covered covered in thorny roses and hundreds of wilted petals. Slowly over the duration of your stay, you notice they wither and fade. Touch a rose and you hear hissing, as the flower briefly curls back into a blossom. Prick your fingers on a thorn, and briefly see names engraved the nearby brick wall. You recognise them from the room of portraits.

■ In a nest of rose vines, you find several notebooks — including one with the prince’s daily entries. On the day of your arrival, he scribbled, Can men learn compassion?

” You must have seen them, the roses. They are his burden. The root and timepiece of his curse. Until the last petal withers away, he must rebuild the forest and make amends for the carnage wrought by his family. If the curse believes… the balance has been met, he will be spared. If not… but we still have time. ”

■ Each day at sunset, the stairwell roses bloom golden, as thousands of petals rain down. If you are touched, and you are in the presence of someone you dislike, you feel encouraged to apologise or make amends. In the company of someone you enjoy, you express gratitude, admiration or joy. Those who are already in love may find themselves (finally?) confessing. Optionally, some characters feel overwhelmed by sudden, bitter sadness, tears trailing down their cheeks — and a feeling of captivity, as footsteps draw near.

Image source.

THE GARDENS

The snow-laden gardens spread wide and vast, containing archery and sword training grounds, a frosted fountain , a frozen lake for skating and several bridges for those who entertain snow fights.

■ If you are a ‘beauty,’ the blood-bound red dirt seems to stick to you as you pass by, staining you crimson. For ‘beasts,’ the dirt all but parts.

■ Each day, castle servants bring devote hours to plant trees in the forest, to cleanse river waters and seed flowers or plant trees.

” This was a hunting castle. It needn’t have been. The villages serve gladly. Panna is only the nearest one, but they have dozens at their bidding. But the Netvor loved their bloodshed well, and so… each season. Crushing, killing, decimating. Even taming, tainting the forest’s wolves to serve as their hounds. That’s why they come at our gates now. To beg scraps. Despicable. Forgive me. I have a soft heart and a weak stomach. For my sake, he no longer hunts in the wasteful way of his people. ”

■ The familiar demonic wolves prowl at night, howling maddeningly and sometimes breaching into the gardens. They appear desperate to attack the castle.

■ Glancing at the castle from the gardens, you might see a dark, nebulous figure in the distance at a tower balcony that doesn’t correspond to any room you’ve had access to.

Image source.

BE OUR GUEST

Each evening, you must dress in formalwear and dine in the great ballroom of the southern wing. The space is now poorly lit by candlelight, and you can barely glimpse your dining partners.

■ You are asked to never look behind you, even as you sometimes hear heavy steps and rattling nearby. Now and then, you think you can almost see a pair of golden eyes behind a dining companion.

■ The dishes and cutlery dance and perform throughout an elaborate, many-course service that all exclude venison. Diners feel compelled to trade anecdotes of their homelands and families. No one can leave for an hour.

■ At least once, you will receive a dish you associate with a close relation or family member.

■ Opt-in: Instead of dishes, you might (at most twice during your stay) receive an empty black plate. You must excuse yourself after dinner, lock yourself in your bedroom and keep vigil that night — careful not to let strangers in, no matter what they say or whose voice they imitate. If you open your door to strangers, a swathe of shadows overwhelms you with deep jealousy, loneliness or insecurity. Human company eases the feeling.

Image source.

LITTLE TOWN

The gentle snow of the first few days worsens, until a great blizzard blockades you in the castle for five days ( OOCly around 17-22 December) — at the end of which, a bashful kitchen ladle and a friendly pot beg you to head into Panna village for supplies. A cart and a stubborn donkey accompany you for the 90-minute trek through the woods.

■ The forests are largely silent, seemingly peopled by animals of prey (rabbits, deer). At times, you find bare human footprints that seem to lead no where, some carrying the red dirt of castle Netvor.

■ Deep claw marks litter most trees in the woodlands close to castle Netvor. To your luck, the large wolves are entirely absent during the day.

■ A few small abandoned hunters’ cabins are still standing, seemingly repurposed as (empty) wolf dens. You find young village children are leaving cooked food and old shawls there. If they see you, children shoo you away.

■ The village is small, warm, chirpy and welcoming — until residents hear you come from Netvor castle. Then, they gossip and urge their children to keep away from your witch blood.

” You must think the people of Panna disloyal, pulling away at the first sign of hardship. But the Netvor were so cruel to animals while they yet learned to torture men. They loved their prince, once. One day, if the witch’s curse lifts, they might love him again. But no one can care for a beast, let alone associate with one pursued by a witch, they say. They are wrong. ”

■ Villagers take you to a tavern to meet drunken hunter Viola, who may need a hand wrapping up a few brawls before taking you to bakers, brewers and lumberjacks. Sometimes, these sellers need your help to prepare the last of the supplies.

■ A nearby place of worship has left out incense for the dead, including incense for the wretched Netvor clan.

■ Viola insists you cannot stay past sunset and declines to accompany you back. Villagers say she was previously assisted the clan Netvor, but stopped after the Red Hunt.

QUESTIONS

NPC INBOX

Comments

iv. ofc (locked prompt)

[companionsgrasp]

[Benedict had done stranger things than partner up with a demon, a detective, and a ghost boy before--or, at the least, as strange of things--so this really was par for the course. He knew Caitlyn was good at her job so he was pleased to find her accompanying them. The other two were new as far as he could tell but they seemed proficient enough at what they were doing. So far.

He paused a moment to listen to his Companion when it was his turn to help out with the breaking and entering portion of their endeavor. That was interesting. Instead of destroying or disarming the trap, however, he maneuvered to stand in the middle of it and projected a shield to allow everyone to move inside without being shocked. His hope was that it was not an alarm to trigger whoever placed it and that leaving it activate would cause their endeavor to be less likely noticed so long as they played the rest of their cards right.

Once they were all inside, he shut the door carefully and removed himself from the barrier's presence, the inky barrier dropping to the sound of Benedict sighing softly. He joined in on the whispering.]

That barrier wasn't very powerful but it was carefully crafted. [He cocked his head to one side as if listening to something.] The magic behind it was artfully stabilized. And...

[His eyes began to dart around the room, searching, and he trailed off, not immediately continuing the conversation as he did so.]

[clavesregni]

Then the lack of power must have been deliberate. Perhaps whoever set it-- [Julien, presumably.] --didn't want to hurt anyone.

[A once-over of the room is the first thing Caitlyn does, a frown settling over her face as she quickly but carefully notes the position of everything she can see. And Deimos is right, there isn't much. It's nearly identical to the bedroom she's been staying in, empty and impersonal. Shouldn't someone who resides in this castle, someone who is in love with its owner and wants to spend his life with him, have something that marks this space as his own? She finds herself thinking of the husk of Vi's home in the fissures, the children's heights marked on a rusted beam and chalk drawings scrawled on the walls. That ruined shack had felt more like a home than this lavish bedroom.

The one thing that stands out is a single golden rose, held under a glass dome.]

There are flowers like this growing in the north wing of the castle.

[She approaches it, pulling out her camera and unfolding it to snap a picture. There's a click and hiss as the photo paper slides out, the grey blobs on its surface slowly materializing into a photograph.]

[misdirected]

[ Despite the old Cole having been a mage, he doesn't really understand the magic they're talking about - but Cole nods all the same at Caitlyn's initial statement. ]

They're tired of the hurt. Hurting one hurts all, and there was too much of it already. [ His daggers get tucked to his sides, eyes wide as he glances out the window, eyes tracking red snow. ] He just needs to look outside to be reminded of it.

[ He wanders through the room, particularly called to the desk. Cole traces his fingers along the wood, humming quietly at the emotions he can still feel lingering nearby: desperation, confusion, despair. Love. There must be something here; maybe it will help quiet the strange discordant notes he hears whenever he sees Julien. His mouth downturns into a frown, brow furrowing as he looks up at the rest of the group - though his voice isn't quite so quiet as the rest of them. ]

How do you live somewhere without living there? Or do you think he lives everywhere at the same time? [ It makes sense to him, since all the other rooms are so similar and this one is no different. ]

[bhaalyn]

( Cole certainly has a way with words. Deimos glances back at the younger man as he makes his remark, before turning back to pour over the room.

he's glad he found these three. he doesn't like doing these things alone. it makes him feel open. exposed. and when he feels like that... the thoughts slowly creep their way through the halls of his skull. pound at the doors to be let loose. he doesn't trust himself alone. but he couldn't have found a better group to aid him, either. they each bring such practiced skills. he does see how the group has survived so long in such a dangerous world. )

He certainly doesn't spend his nights here. ( Deimos mutters. his eyes snap to the device that Caitlyn carries. he'll have to remember to ask about it later. but he sets about what he does best. finding the hidden things in the nooks and crannies. if there's a lock, he'll pick it.

yet the room offers so little resistance... and when he finds the cloak it's almost all too easy. ) This doesn't quite match the rest of the clothes. ( Deimos pulls the worn cloak from the closet amidst the riches of finery. ) Where did Julien come from? He doesn't seem to ever leave for this to be here.

[companionsgrasp]

[There was a peculiar look on Benedict's face as Cole spoke. He was oddly reminded of someone else who liked to speak in riddles and anecdotes and strange patterns. A *pulse* of amusement vibrated in his head and he looked away to something else in the room before he got a mindful.

There wasn't much to find that didn't look like every other room in the castle.]

Maybe the nearby village. [Benedict replied to Deimos's question absentmindedly.] If he came from a lower class than those here at this castle, I would have to assume.

[He paused over a desk but there didn't seem to be anything interesting on it and his Companion didn't speak up about anything more nestled into its memories either. He glanced back at Deimos with the cloak in hand and then to the rose where Caitlyn stood. Both were much more interesting object and Benedict wondered if they held anything significant within their memories.]

Don't the roses in the northern wing bloom and wilt daily?

[clavesregni]

[Is Cole positing a theory, or speaking metaphorically? As someone who tends to be relatively literal, Caitlyn isn't sure what to make of his more poetic questions. Although, with the sorts of magic they've encountered in this world, perhaps a person could, quite literally, live everywhere at the same time.

Julien certainly doesn't spend much time here, in any case. In response to Deimos' first statement, she says,] I would want to spend my nights with my fiancé. Were I in his position.

[She slips the photograph into her notebook and resumes surveying the room. The rug looks hardly disturbed, no obvious tracks or wearing that would indicate where Julien walks most frequently. The bed has either been meticulously made before their arrival or it hasn't been slept in. She kneels to peer under it, in case something is hidden there.]

I've only seen the roses there once. They did wilt, but at sunset they bloomed golden.

[misdirected]

[ It's annoying, Cole decides, that he can't hear as much here as he can when he's home in Thedas. When he looks over at the cloak Deimos holds and it whispers nothing helpful to him, he frowns. (It isn't a pout, it isn't. Ghosts don't pout, no matter how frustrated they get.) He doesn't like not hearing things. He doesn't like not being helpful. He starts pulling open drawers, rooting through papers and quills as he listens to their conversation. ]

I don't like the roses. [ It's a little bit sullen as he says it. ] They're very pretty and other people make them look nice - a hand held, small smile shared between them, "I'm so glad you're here," "I'm sorry for what I said" - but they didn't feel very nice to me. You should be careful around them.

[ He very deliberately does not elaborate on what the petals had made him feel, how similar it had been to Cole's emotions before he'd died. Lucky then, that a distraction comes in the form of his fingers brushing something warm, something that sounds like the source of the echoes he'd heard before. He pulls a bundle of paper out of the desk, flipping through briefly but without even trying to read them; instead, he walks the bundle over to Benedict, as the nearest person, and hands it over before addressing the room at large. ]

This was in the desk. They're Julien's; I don't know what they say, but they're important to him. They're very frustrated.

[bhaalyn]

Wouldn't it be easier to simply room with the Prince instead at this point? No need to lock this room if there's nothing of value in it. ( Deimos frowns. he doesn't think Caitlyn's wrong, but evne still this room doesn't look like Julien ever lived in it. more like it houses a few small things, separate from where anyone else might find them. maybe even the Prince himself...?

he looks to what Cole passes to Benedict. ) Are they sealed? We don't want to be caught opening anything.

[companionsgrasp]

[It was a good thing that Benedict was staring at Cole after the boy recited that interesting tidbit because it meant he saw Cole coming. He still blinked as Cole put the bundle of papers in his hands and snapped out of his thoughts. He looked down at the letters.]

No, they're older, and they've already been read.

[Benedict replied to Deimos's question. He was going through the pile now, selecting various letters to skim over. He was careful not to damage or leave evidence of tampering behind, but also quick to peruse. He summarized for the rest of the team.]

Cole is right. The overall tone is frustrated, upset with Julien for withholding his affection and remaining aloof. He wanted to see him. He... I think these are from the prince- he professes his love and adoration for Julien, then goes on to beg for his attention. Then it turns accusatory.

[Benedict returned the last letter back into its envelope and took a moment to shake off the feeling left behind. He turned back to Cole and gave the bundle of letters back to the boy.]

Put them back exactly how you found them. These would be noticed if they went missing.

[clavesregni]

[Having found nothing of interest around or under the bed, Caitlyn hurries over to peer at the letters over Benedict's shoulder. She snaps a photograph of one, so that they at least have one that they can refer back to, and to compare against the prince's handwriting.]

He locked this room for a reason. There's something in here doesn't want found. [And perhaps it's these letters. Curious that they're not the sort of letters Caitlyn would imagine exchanged between two people in love. She speaks to herself, muttering aloud:] If Julien didn't return the prince's affections initially, what caused his change of heart?